


Empty Space

by GiouYomi



Category: Naruto
Genre: Abuse of parentheses (you will see), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Trauma, Complicated Relationships, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I promise, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Overprotective, Pining, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Yes I know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 01:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10956546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiouYomi/pseuds/GiouYomi
Summary: Hatake Kakashi is a lonely man, and Fate stubbornly keeps reminding him of that fact. He cries, screams, tears his skin apart from the inside, but they still leave. (Or: Synapse is the empty space between two beings forever close – yet never together.)





	Empty Space

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Kishimoto-sensei in any way, shape or form. Got inspired during science class. And blame Kakashi Gaiden for my obsession with him.  
> Warning: Mentions of mental instability, character death (the canon ones and my OCs, I won’t be killing anyone in this), possible spoilers (depending on where you are in the Naruto story), self-harming, depression, troubled childhood, and violence.

Synapse /ˈsʌɪnaps/ or /ˈsɪnaps/, noun. From Greek _sunapsis_ , from _sun-_ 'together' + _hapsis_ 'joining', from _haptein_ 'to join'. A junction between two nerve cells, consisting of a minute gap across which impulses pass by diffusion of a neurotransmitter.

XxXxXxXxXx

The first time he’s barely an hour old, red-faced and kicking with all his might in his father’s embrace, still learning how to breathe but already taking in his surroundings. His mother gives him a tired smile and closes her dulling eyes.

He coos at her, reaching out in her general direction with more control in his limbs than an infant should have, but only succeeds at loosening the soft blanket wrapped all around him. He doesn’t think, can’t because he’s a newborn and his entire world consists of an upside down vanilla painted room, dead grey eyes peering at him and a jaw set into a resigned grimace.

Hatake Kakashi is born into the arms of a fading woman and the house of a grieving father. His world is monochrome, black and white and shades of grey added afterwards, and even if after a few days his vision slowly starts being colored all he sees is silver grey hair and people dressed in black under a stormy sky.

(He doesn’t know, doesn’t understand, but Kakashi is facing the first death of many to come.)

* * *

 

The second time he’s grown up, not quite prepubescent but old enough to learn, to judge, and that’s what he does best.

He’s shoved into a classroom at the tender age of 4, recently graduated from the stage of toddler. He doesn’t mind, because it’s the best he can do, and playmates don’t interest him anyway. He puts all his mind into studying and practicing, as much as his underdeveloped body allows and beyond, so it’s not that big of a surprise for him to place first in the final ranking exam.

He deems his classmates unworthy, all children with no goal in life, and he doesn’t stop to think that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t have a goal either, not when he’s that young.

But he does, and for that his peers hate him and his teachers fear him, for a child too bright in troubled times is surely a harbinger of misfortune. But that’s alright. All that matters are the proud smile his father gifts him with and the big hand in his hair, a touch so rare he cherishes it with all his little heart.

Half a year later and he’s hailed a prodigy, and a few months fly by until he comes home with a metal plated headband clutched in his tiny hands.

(He doesn’t say, nor does his father, but Kakashi feels as if on that night something has changed between them. For there’s pride in his father’s eyes, and it lights up Kakashi’s heart like little fireworks blooming in his chest, but also a heavy cloud of sadness, and the fire in Kakashi’s mind is quelled by incomprehension.)

He’s put on a team, the members naturally older since he’s the only graduate of his age group, and it’s not too bad. Both of his teammates are ten, early graduates but not quite like he is. Skill-wise they are well matched. Their Jonin-sensei is nothing remarkable, brown haired and brown eyed with skin only a shade lighter. He’s kind and strong and that Kakashi can easily accept. Kindness is only a liability on the battlefield, and he makes sure that his teammates abide by that rule.

It’s not hard for them to listen to him, because after only a week he establishes himself as the team leader. Asami is shy with ash black hair, all too willing to please with a mean kick to back her up. She has potent chakra for a girl, with a fierce personality she hides behind dropping puppy eyes. Yato balances her out perfectly, a spit-fire outside but a kind soul at heart, yet that doesn’t stop him from unleashing unforgiving genjutsu and volleys of senbon upon the enemy.

They work together like a well-oiled machine, and their sensei never misses a chance to comment on it. Kakashi rarely answers to the praise, but silently basks in it.

A year later and he’s six, drenched in blood and clutching a kunai even though the judge shakily declares him the winner. The sun has set outside the tall building, and Kakashi for one doesn’t find any pride in his achievement.

He doesn’t cry, but allows himself a last glance at the frantic medics swarming around the two stretchers. Bile rises in his throat but he swallows it again, knowing that it won’t do anything and won’t help anyone. Kakashi is young, but old enough to understand that he will not be seeing his teammates again.

Kakashi doesn’t turn back but silently regrets not having been closer to them.

(Then Kakashi thinks of his father and the way the man had become a shell of himself, and it’s with renewed vigor that he turns to head towards his house on the boundaries of Konoha. He’s sure that the shamed White Fang will cheer up at the sight of his son, six years old and already beating people twice his age at becoming Chuunin.)

* * *

 

The third time is an hour later, when Kakashi steps into the house and isn’t greeted by the barks of his father’s ninken. They must be out for a walk, he decides, and slaps away the anxiety creeping into his bones.

The house is too quiet even for a summer night. The lights are off but Kakashi is used to such darkness, has been for months ever since his father had come home, battered and defeated with a somber yearning in his eyes. Maybe it’s the fearless curiosity of a child, or maybe it’s the morbid thoughts of a shinobi who only plays by the rules, but unconsciously Kakashi’s already preparing himself for the worse as he paddles through the lumps of clothing between the entrance and the living room.

It’s weird, since the house cleaner’s laundry day is the first Sunday of every month, and it’s barely been a week since then. Kakashi has been away with the Chuunin exam for most of that time and as such could not have contributed to the mess, so he wonders how many uniforms his father had gone through every day.

The gears turn in his head, but finally he decides that the detail is irrelevant. He’s dutifully aware of his father’s mental state since his last mission, and it’s not so uncommon nowadays to witness the man scrubbing ragingly at his shirts as if washing away some form of taints or having him stare absentmindedly at corners and empty rooms while muttering his wife’s name in a desperate tone.

(It tears at Kakashi’s heart, not being able to do anything as he watches his father – his world – slip away gently and crumble under his touch, but he still tries. He won’t give up like he did with his teammates, and it’s unfair of him but to Kakashi it was only logical. Because Kakashi will never, ever love anyone more than this person who shares his hair, half of his genes and all his existence. Kakashi lives for no one but Sakumo, and that is painfully obvious.)

The first thing he sees is red, on the door, on the floor, on the walls, on his _hands_ , dripping off a bony white blade and mattering silver hair. Red, like the room, the scent in the air, the poppies blooming in their garden, the liquid soaking his pant legs and the hand constricting his chest until it burned and tore at his throat.

Kakashi can’t breathe, but somewhere he tells himself it was only a fair punishment for failing his father. He never notices the brutal banging on the door nor the panicked yells right behind him. However, his mind does register a flash of bright yellow the shade of summer crops.

It’s the last thing he knows before darkness engulfs him.

 (Distantly he hears a blood-churning scream, and only after it ends he realizes that it was his own. That night Kakashi’s world shatters, and it’s only through a miracle that he still holds his own cracked pieces together. But then it doesn’t matter anymore, because Kakashi is now a soldier, and Konoha always has uses for soldiers until they break and could not be mended.)

He was wrong. Kindness is a liability to a shinobi, no matter where and when, because death haunts you even in the safety of your own home.

* * *

 

Years later and Kakashi is twelve, six years into his bloody career and five under the care of Jonin Namikaze Minato.

One might say he’s changed, his build no longer a child’s but a growing boy’s lean muscles and height, a dark mask now hiding his features from the world and himself. He’s only gotten better, his jutsu arsenal ever expanding and his weaponry skills refining by the day, and his taijutsu is nothing to laugh at either. _Jonin material already_ , some whisper, and it’s entirely true.

Yet for his guardian, if asked, Kakashi is almost the same as he had been when he had first come under the prodigious blonde’s wing. Still the same coarse-looking hair, the same sharp gaze, the same soulless dark grey eyes. Still plagued by the same nightmares, all cruelly happy at first with death knocking at every ending, and Minato wonders if the only good thing in all that is the way they have grown closer.

Six years Kakashi has been a Chuunin and finally he has a team to call his own again, but he’s all but willing.

As the silver haired boy stands in training ground 3 at the crack of dawn, he glances at the brunette beside him chatting incessantly and the idiotic Uchiha obviously smitten with her, and he sighs in resignation and annoyance.

XxXxXxXxXx

The fourth time it nearly breaks him, because it’s Obito, _Obito_ , his friend – his first – and it hurts so much more than it ever did before but Kakashi’s too far gone to care.

_Obito, you big idiot_ , he wants to say, but it comes out as nothing more than a choked breath.

Kakashi wants to blame someone – anyone – the Hokage for assigning them this damn mission, Rin for being so weak as to get captured, Minato-sensei’s tardiness, Obito’s stupidity for rushing into things without thinking.

_Those who break the rules are scum, but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum!_

But at the end it’s still him, always him.

Still Kakashi who’s left behind, still Kakashi who is feeling betrayed. Still Kakashi who gives out his heart only for it to be torn apart savagely. Always Kakashi who comes back, a bit more cracked but never broken, and always alone.

Always, always Kakashi’s fault, and no one can say otherwise because Kakashi’s the only one to know everything.

(If only he hadn’t been born, his mother would be alive.

If only he hadn’t left his teammates to hunt down another team in the Chuunin exams, and maybe they would still be alive today. Maybe not a team, Asami and Yato and Umino-sensei, but still alive.

If only he had tried harder, been more open, more supportive, and perhaps the sword on his back would still be beside his father’s uniform, waiting to be strapped on.

_If only I had been quicker, Obito would still be here._ )

And Kakashi chokes on that thought because it’s unbearable, the ball in his stomach impossible to contain as he’s about to burst. Obito’s eye throbs in his eye socket and Kakashi rubs at the bandages, feeling the bump of the scar tissues and the burn lighting up the damaged nerves when he presses too hard.

_Obito’s eye_ , and it’s a kind of guilt he’d never felt before. Obito’s Sharingan, finally obtained after years and years of yearning, and it’s almost a sin for it to be his.

_I’ll become your eye… and see the future with you._

(It’s also Obito’s life that’s his now, because that’s what it is – a trade that should never have happened.)

He feels arms around his shoulders. He looks back to find Rin pressed against his side, wide eyes sad and unseeing and tears gliding down her cheeks, uncontrolled.

Kakashi wonders how it must be for her, to lose Obito when she finally was beginning to return his affections, as subtle as it was. How it must have been to look into his eyes – eye, because the other one had been under the boulder – and gouge it out with all the love it held for her.

Rin sobs pathetically into his shoulder, and Kakashi reaches back to embrace her awkwardly.

(It hurts and stabs at his heart and bellows in his head but it’s alright because he’s not alone in this mess.

Again Kakashi regrets, for the gap between Obito and him – between life and death – is more than he can bear.)

XxXxXxXxXx

A fifth time, and Kakashi’s coming to the end of his sanity.

_It’s myfault myfaultmyfaultmyfault whywhywhy I was supposed to protect her-_

His arm twitches, hypersensitive to the sharp sting of shattered ribs digging into his flesh.

_Why why are you smiling so-_

His forearm is strangely warm, encased in a human body, while his hand is cold in the chilly night.

A muscle flutters around his limb. Once. Twice.

_Stop smiling nonononononono-_

Thrice. And the heart stops.

_No don’t you dare – don’t you DARE leave me alone!_

Nohara Rin’s corpse slide down his arm with a wet squelch, blood still squirting out like little fountains, splattering everywhere, on the ground, the grass, the rocks, her and him and the entire world.

_Why, Rin? Why?_

Enemy shinobis surround him but he couldn’t care less, blood thumping in his temples and his heartbeat roaring into his ears. Kakashi wishes he was blind, deaf, _dead_ , anything but the waxing moon casting long shadows over the tall grass painted crimson, the stench of death mixing with a familiar scent – it shouldn’t be, never together, not pines and oranges because that’s Rin’s smell and it shouldn’t be mixing with _death_ – and Kakashi drops, weightless.

_Didn’t we promise to live, for…?_

For a moment, he feels as if he’s underwater and the night sky is the deep ocean, about to swallow him whole as he drowns in the poison that is air.

His head is pounding and his vision blackening at the edges, and Kakashi doesn’t quite know what is up or down and it’s a blissful kind of hurt.

“Obito…” he mutters, with only Rin’s last fading warmth as his witness.

_I’m sorry, I promised to… protect…_

Kakashi falls, deeper and deeper until he doesn’t want to swim up again, not having the strength nor the will, and it’s with a relieved sigh that he succumbs to oblivion.

_Is this the future we’ve promised to see together? Obito?_

 (For the first time Kakashi is sinking in his broken memories, and it won’t be the last.)

* * *

 

A year crawls by, agonizingly slow, even if finally, the war is over and peace negotiations are going strong.

Kakashi is taking as many missions as he could, thirteen and a Jonin standing alone against the tides of loneliness. He’s not the only one, for many have been lost and others left behind. It’s war, deadly cruel yet unforgiving even to those who live, and so Kakashi is not spared from active duty just as any other able shinobi.

The village is weak even if victory is hers. She might still be standing whole, unlike Iwa with half its population gone or Kumo and the crater in the middle of its marketplace, but in the end Konoha still suffers.

(In the end they all bleed and cry the same, Konoha or Iwa or anyone else, and it’s a startling realization for a youngster such as Kakashi who’s ever only known war. Who’s only known that enemies are to be eliminated and nothing more, no matter what Rin or Obito have told him. No matter the look in Asami or Yato’s eyes that time Kakashi kills when he’s soon-to-be six, because they’re all long gone.)

He’s no different from anyone else yet it’s him whom people stop to stare at, him who’s the subject of many discussions late in the bars. Him who’s openly criticized or praised – _look, it’s that man’s brat, I’m glad he can separate personal emotions from duty_ – and Kakashi ignores it as best as he could.

But undeniably a fire burns deep within him, snarling and coiling and waiting to burst – _how dare you_ , it says, _how dare you insult me. Insult them – Obito and Rin and your own teammates who have given their lives for you to see a new day._

He never says it out loud, rarely even talks now, and once upon a time Minato-sensei might have done something to help but the blonde is too occupied with village business to care much for his only remaining student.

_Hokage_ , the people whisper, and Kakashi knows it to be entirely true.

He’s proud, just as he had been when he had received his first ninken pup – Pakkun – from his father, just as he had been when Rin had grown back an entire finger for him after a training accident, just as he had been when Obito had scorched him for the first time with the intensity of his Sharingan.

(Half of the pair of eyes that’s Kakashi’s, and the silver haired teenager still despairs at the way the same eye never darkens with resolve and love and _so much more_ when he stares at the mirror.)

Namikaze Minato deserves the title, and Kakashi will be there to support him all the way, along with the redhead Uzumaki, and the growing ball of chakra – a child – in her stomach that Minato still believes him to not have noticed.

It’s loss and the aftermaths of war, but Kakashi thinks that maybe, life can be good again.

XxXxXxXxXx

The sixth time Kakashi dies and almost doesn’t come back.

He’d been prepared, have known since long ago the dangers that came with the woman that is Uzumaki Kushina, from her clumsiness to her lava-hot temper all the way to the beast that resides in her belly.

Kushina who was the jailer to her own prison, bound by the monster her seal cages.

Also gently firm Kushina-nee with her kisses and hugs or her eggplant soup that she cooks with a mysterious smile, as if already knowing what he tries so hard to hide.

(It’s a blurry memory, but Kakashi’s almost sure it tastes just like his father’s, before the mission and the depression and the war.)

Kushina and Minato, secretly married for a year and happier than ever. She’s the heat to his sun, deep crimson red to complement his summer crops yellow, and she might not be the world to Kakashi but occupies a major part of it with the Yondaime. Because a part of it will always be reserved for Asami and Yato and Rin and Obito.

Now Kakashi’s not so sure, for his world is not empty yet but all upside down, with Minato and Kushina still there but _gone._ Gone with only corpses left to look at and mourn, and it’s wrong – so terribly _wrong_ – because it’s the Hokage and the strongest kunoichi in Konoha, because it’s _Minato_ and it’s _Kushina_ and _how can they die?_

How can they leave Konoha after the war, their child, _Kakashi_?

(How dare they leave him like this again? Haven’t they promised to make it all better? To show him what a _family_ is?)

For a few days the same questions turn and churn in his mind, never leaving him alone even during the bleak hours on the night, and soon enough Kakashi seeks out the company of the dead.

He stays there for a week and it takes an entire ANBU squad to pull him away from the Memorial stone.

* * *

 

Many months pass by, and for Kakashi they all swirl together into a ball of nothing.

He has a new mask now, sturdier than the one he’s worn for already eight years. Streaks of black crossing the bone pale mask and bright red circling the sharp cut eyes, and Kakashi’s a predator painted in black uniform and dull white armor.

He doesn’t mind. Like that he can pretend, to be strong, to be dangerous, to be fearless. To be emotionless like the soldier Konoha needs him to be. He can disregard the fact that he may be swaying closer and closer to the wrong side, trying to close the gap between him and his precious memories while dying inside.

It’s alright to be like that.

It’s alright as long as he hides from everyone and himself.

Obito’s eye doesn’t throb anymore, not the fresh pain of transplanting something that isn’t his own. Yet the feeling of wrong and foreign still leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, for every time a target is slain it feels like it’s him bleeding out and not the dead shinobi at his feet.

(He’s killing with Obito’s eye and that’s not alright, because Obito is entirely capable of doing so and coming out better. Because Kakashi cannot cope the way Obito does, Kakashi is left broken and haunted with death on his mind and his hands and so not good enough for the Sharingan. Kami, what mean is there to use a weapon that equally kills the enemy and its wielder?)

XxXxXxXxXx

On a stormy night, the Hokage calls him.

Kakashi rolls out of bed, uniform recently cleaned and ready to go with his mask propped up on top of the neatly folded pile, yet he bypasses it and heads for the Hokage tower in loose pants and standard Jounin shirt, dark blue fabric stretching up to rest under his cheekbones. He grabs a fresh roll of bandages before stepping out of his apartment, intending on making use of them on the way.

Kakashi doesn’t acknowledge the blood-stained razor sitting next to his keys.

He trots on Konoha’s well beaten soils, hands stuffed into his pockets and ignoring the wind blowing silver strands into his uncovered eye. The fresh humidity is unnatural against his bare skin, and Kakashi barely suppressed a shiver.

When he arrives at the tower the secretary gave him a glance and ushers him into the Hokage’s office, shoulders tense and a look he’s never seen in the usually kind woman’s eyes.

It’s a deep-rooted fear and the beginning of something ugly, and Kakashi doesn’t know what to say so he stays silent.

The ANBU guards posted at a corner discreetly gives him a nod – Kuma, a year Kakashi’s senior and a proficient Earth user – and Kakashi steps into the room.

As usual the scent of smoke and tea invade his senses, but it’s not an unpleasant aroma.

Yet today something is different.

To Kakashi’s hypersensitive nose it spells danger and something painfully familiar, like a scent he should know but has forgotten.

Fireflies and sunshine mixed with the distinctive odor of warm fur, and Kakashi’s head swims with the rhythm of his heart beating around its cage.

The Hokage turns around to face him, and only then Kakashi notices a bundle in the older man’s arms.

Something pulls at him and he steps closer, wary and more tired than he’s ever felt since he’d become ANBU captain Hound. Kakashi’s newly bandaged wrist throbs with a dull ache.

Summer crops a shade lighter than it is in his memories, an almost toothless smile and – Kami, please, _please_ let it be real – twin orbs shining like the heavens stare at him, pierce Kakashi right to his core, and again, just like that night 9 years ago with his father’s blood on his hands, Kakashi’s breath is stolen by a being of gold and endless sky.

XxXxXxXxXx

He watches the child.

It’s slow going at first, with every day consisting of mostly sleeping, crying and eating. More often than not it takes a glare or two from the ANBU for the caretakers in the orphanage to answer the baby’s needs. It’s somewhat tiring, but the child is endearing, energetic enough to keep the entire ANBU squad assigned to him awake without needing a drop of supplementary energy – the black motor oil from the HQ cafeteria that they call coffee, that is.

But eventually Minato-sensei’s son grows, day by day, until Kakashi starts having difficulties keeping the infant still in his arms. Soon enough he starts crawling, and it is entertaining to watch, to say the least.

The little pup would crawl on the ground, the table, the chairs, anywhere he could reach. At least it’s still manageable, since coordination is a word that has yet to be included in the child’s non-existent dictionary.

(Kakashi stays in the shadows, comes out only at night when the nurses finally go away to rest, and it amazes him how the infant would instantly wake up and roll in his crib to greet him with wide blue eyes and a soft coo on his baby pink lips. The night sky seemingly reflects in the child’s eyes, a gaze with so much depth it’s scary – Kakashi would stay there for hours, hypnotized, until morning comes and the little blonde succumbs to sleep.)

Kakashi couldn’t wait for Minato-sensei’s son to start walking.

(Somehow it feels like the empty space in his mind is slowly closing on itself. He can’t decide if it’s a good thing or not.)

XxXxXxXxXx

Kakashi would like nothing more than to swallow those words and pretend he never, ever muttered them under his breath, because he’s sure the toddler had heard him and had started walking earlier than most just to torture him.

_Barely 8 months old and already walking with the help of whatever is low enough for him to hold on to_ , Kakashi thinks, and it’s unbelievable.

Standing at his full height the toddler only reaches the base of Kakashi’s knees, and the silver haired teen wonders how the pup can move so fast with such tiny legs. Kakashi is an ANBU captain at fifteen, tracker extraordinaire and genius by both blood and fate, and the silver haired teen still cannot help but to be amazed by the toddler’s growth.

Kakashi is tempted to bring out his ninken because he’s not sure his nose alone will be able to keep track of the kid for long, no matter if the orphanage is one of the tiniest around.

And so time goes on, and the Yondaime’s legacy ages. Kakashi is there to witness it all, sometimes in the cover of night but now often just steps behind the toddler, and for a moment everything seems to be fine again.

(Kakashi doesn’t hear the whispers just yet, but the ANBU talk. They talk about the hero, because they know only too well how to distinguish the fine line between savior and monster. They talk about Uzumaki Naruto with wonder and a hint of pride from those who guard him, for no one gets away unscathed from the boy’s sunny smile.

In the shadows the senior ANBU would smile softly at captain Hound and the lack of razor-shaped wounds on his arms.

Hound doesn’t hear but the Hokage sees, and the wizened man releases a sigh of relief.)

XxXxXxXxXx

“But Hokage-sama!”

“I’m not enjoying this either, but orders are orders. Hokage I may be, I still cannot go against the entire Council.”

Hound seethes beneath his mask, yet doesn’t voice his objections. The tension in his shoulders and the slight tilt of his head are enough to convey the message, and the Hokage answers him with a hardened gaze.

“Hound, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”                                 

The hidden reprimand doesn’t still Kakashi like it normally would. The ANBU captain’s entire frame shakes with the anger bubbling underneath his skin.

“Harder than it has to be? Hokage-sama, I’m not about to leave sensei’s son alone in this – this village! I’m not blind, Hokage-sama, and neither are you. We both know what will happen to him. I won’t in good conscience let him go through that!”

Sarutobi stays silent, and Kakashi’s smouldering eyes rest fixated on the older man. It’s a lost battle, the silver haired teen knows, but he’s not about to accept it, not when it’s about Naruto’s life – his life, his world, and Kakashi is not about to let that go.

Finally, Sarutobi lifts his head from his stack of paperwork, and suddenly Kakashi finds a pair of defeated hazel eyes staring into his soul. He sneers, knowing that it iss only an attempt at guilt-tripping him, and Kakashi doesn’t back down even when the gaze turns sharp and pierce Kakashi’s core.

He lets the Hokage search him, dig out memories Kakashi had painstakingly buried away, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t flinch.

“Hound.”

Kakashi doesn’t react, but the Hokage continues anyway. “Pack for two years. It’s final.”

“Hokage-sama!”

Sarutobi slams down a scroll onto his table with enough force to crack the wood, and Kakashi stops.

“I’m sending you away to Snow country. Sources state that trouble is brewing there, and I currently have no agent close enough to the royal family to keep an eye on the situation there. You are to guard the princess and report back everything you see. Pull back after 18 months if necessary, but stay as long as you can. Understood?”

Kakashi nods briskly and turns around, stance stiff with rage, heading toward the exit. He knows that his blatant disregard of protocol is enough to put him on probation for improper conduct, but the teen finds that he doesn’t care.

He’s halfway through the door when Sarutobi calls out.

“Kakashi, I trust that you’re efficient enough to be back in half the time.”

Kakashi grins, and he readjusts his Hound mask to distract himself from the unusual gleeful feeling.

What the Hokage wants, the Hokage gets.

(After all, Kakashi now has someone to come back home to.)

* * *

 

“I’m sorry.”

That’s got to be the first time in all his life he’s heard the man apologize, Kakashi thinks with a malice he doesn’t quite hide, but again he only came back from Snow last week and it’s been three years since he had talked to the Hokage.

The mission took way longer than planned, with the mess that had been the daimyo’s assassination and the ensuing rebellion, and it had taken Kakashi some rather spectacular last-minute escape plans and more than a few Chidori to even get out of there alive with princess Koyuki screaming on his back.

So Kakashi feels that it’s only fair to have terrorized the civilian Council with his most murderous killing intent and some pretty impressive kunai sculptures – that were totally not shaped like a few Council members that shall remain unnamed.

(How dare they take Minato-sensei’s son away from him?)

“If it can reassure you, I’ll put Cat on the squad.”

Kakashi lifts an eyebrow incredulously, and the Hokage glares back at him without much strength.

“I can do that much at least. The Council insisted on getting you off guarding duty, since you’re much more useful on the field than at home babysitting. We both know that it is true. However, they never said who’ll replace you.”

Hound sighs, defeated. Even if it isn’t what he had in mind when he meant ‘taking care of sensei’s son’, assigning his past ANBU student is the next best thing to him doing the job himself. He wouldn’t trust his sensei’s child with anyone else.

However, he won’t be telling the Hokage that anytime soon. Let Sarutobi sweat a bit more, the man deserves it. With that in mind, the eighteen-years-old puts on his best disgruntled look and smirks in satisfaction when the Sandaime averts his eyes.

“Look, Kakashi, Yugao had been under your command in ANBU. While the Council banned anyone from taking care of Naruto openly, she’s good enough to keep an eye on him and ward off trouble, well, as much as the Council allows her to.”

The Hokage’s gaze turns almost pleading, and Kakashi finally relents, still a bit reluctant.

“Fine, but I have three conditions.”

“Go ahead.”

“First, he is to have his own apartment on the outskirts of the shinobi residential district. Barrier seals are also to be applied on his windows and his door to ward off intruders, preferably to be renewed every year. Second, he is to attend the shinobi Academy at age 6 under a… proper teacher, and exempt of all fees until graduation. Of course, the amounts are to be deducted from my account. Third, I am to be assigned as his Jonin-sensei upon his graduation. The Council is also to have no say in my decisions from there on.”

Sarutobi blinks, once, twice, before pinning him with a bewildered expression.

“Is that… all?”

Kakashi blinks back. “Yup?”

“I was expecting something… more.”

The ANBU captain answers it with a grin.

Sarutobi turns back to his papers and shuffles around a bit until he pulls out last week’s Konoha newspaper.

“Well, looks like there’s a place available on Main street. Third floor, one-bedroom setting. The previous owner apparently has had enough of… late-night howling, it seems.”

The Sandaime casts Kakashi a suspicious glance. “Isn’t it convenient that it’s the building right beside yours, Hound?”

The silver haired teen’s smile is entirely unrepentant. “Just a coincidence, sir.”

Sarutobi only shakes his head fondly, exasperated. “I’ll arrange for Jiraiya to apply the seals after Naruto moves in. He’s set to come back to Konoha next week. As for the Academy, that can be done easily. I’ll just have to write you down as his guardian for you to legally endorse his school fees. Of course, that information will be classified. It that acceptable?”

“Perfectly, Hokage-sama. Also, I have a suggestion for his Academy teacher.”

“Oh?” the Sandaime asks, intrigued.

“I’ve been wondering about that new Chuunin at the mission desk… Umino Iruka, right? With the scar across his nose. He looks proficient, with the way the Jonins are literally walking on eggshells around him. I heard that he’s refused a promotion recently.”

The Hokage smiles under his hat. “Are you sure? His parents died in the Kyubi attack.”

“Maa, he doesn’t seem to be the spiteful type.”

_He can’t be, not when he’s Umino-sensei’s son,_ Kakashi silently explains.

“Have you been following my shinobi around, Kakashi?” Sarutobi laughs, and if only a bit it lifts the heavy mood of planning Naruto’s near future – a future without Kakashi, the teen thinks, and for the hundredth time he curses the Council.

When will the bastards stop making it their lives’ mission to ruin the pup’s childhood?

“Well, I just had to make sure.”

Another chuckle, and Sarutobi waves his hand. “It’s fine, Iruka-kun has already applied for a position in the Academy anyway. Told me he couldn’t become a teacher if he’s saddled with too many missions as Jonin so he refused the promotion. He’ll consider it after his first batch of kids marry and spawn, he said.”

During the next hour Kakashi and the Hokage figure out the finer details to their agreement. It’s at twilight that Hound finally walks out of the Hokage tower.

(For the first time in three years he doesn’t head directly for the orphanage, and it’s a new kind of wound that tears at his insides, like an old scar bursting at the seams. Kakashi never had to avoid those precious to him, and it’s almost as bad as Obito and Rin and Minato dying.

Kami, a week and he’s already missing the pup.)

* * *

 

“My first impression of you is…”

Kakashi can’t bring himself to finish the sentence, because even if he’s been mentally preparing himself for a month it still doesn’t shield him against the bright eyes and the sunny locks of blond hair.

He’d been watching of course; he’d been watching from afar for already nine years. But never once had he allowed himself to be close, not even enough to see anything more than an orange and yellow dot in a sea of people, and so Kakashi is entirely unprepared when his eye meets a dazzling summer sky he hasn’t seen in what feels like an eternity.

“I hate you.”

The Jonin flinches when his mind automatically begins to pick apart the emotions behind the look Minato sensei’s son tries to hide, because what he finds is no longer childish wonder but loneliness and a sinister edge that reminds him far too much of his own younger days.

_Hate_ , Kakashi figures. The unspoken word between the villagers and the burden that sleeps in Naruto’s belly, and perhaps also the word that defines what the blonde sees in himself.

It’s also the word that Kakashi will never forgive himself for associating with the Genin.

* * *

 

A seventh time and Kakashi’s breath almost stills.

It’s not the rain, nor the pink-hued water drenching his sandals, nor the knowledge that he has failed yet again both as a shinobi and a teacher.

Kakashi doesn’t grieve for Sasuke because he’s done that when he had first seen the cursed seal on the pale boy’s neck. Kakashi had seen the darkness, the hate that the dark-haired boy harbors and all the love that it speaks of in silence. Before the Chuunin exams perhaps, before Orochimaru and his twisted words, Sasuke could have been saved.

For all the darkness the boy bears Kakashi isn’t as blind as to not see the clear bond forming between the boys on his team, no matter if it’s based on mutual rivalry or something more.

Yet once again he’s too late, and as always it’s just as devastating.

For a singular moment Kakashi grieves for Naruto, for a bond severed in all the ways it shouldn’t have been.

(Just like it had been for him and Obito.)

Kakashi knows that the Genin isn’t dead, his nose and his eyes and Pakkun are screaming it in his ears but somehow it doesn’t alleviate the pain in the slightest.

(Somehow seeing the hole the Chidori had left in the blonde’s chest is almost as if he had shoved it there himself. It’s sickening, because it’s Rin all over again and he hates it.)

But those are all just excuses.

Because what he sees is not Minato’s son bleeding out and dying because of Kakashi’s failures. What he sees is sunshine blond hair brighter than Minato’s has ever been, dirty and damp with watery soil, whisker marks dark and outlining a soft jawline. He sees long and fine eyelashes hinting at the sky-blue eyes Kakashi so desperately seeks, thin angry red scars crisscrossing on the boy’s fragile looking wrists.

The silver haired Jonin cannot figure out when the transition had happened between sensei’s son and simply Naruto.

(It’s probably somewhere between the second or third time he’d had to drag an unconscious blond teen to the hospital, and the fifth time he’d had to ransack Naruto’s apartment for hidden razors.)

* * *

 

“Kakashi-sensei.”

His name is whispered with utter relief, and Kakashi can’t help but to chuckle.

He allows the teen to stumble and slump against his back with a wince the blond shinobi doesn’t quite hide.

“Rest now, Naruto. You’ve done well.”

“The village?”

“All fine. Thanks to you.” And he means it. He couldn’t fake the pride that’s about to burst in his chest even if he wanted to.

Kakashi feels the tired smile pressed into his shoulder. With a small jump, he readjusts Naruto’s position to hold him more comfortably while trudging through the forest. The gentle swaying and the previous battle against Pein coax Naruto into a light slumber, the teen all but melting into Kakashi’s warm back.

The silver haired man finds he doesn’t mind the extra weight and the wayward strands of hair tickling the exposed skin on his neck.

Just as they are nearing Konoha – or what is left of the village – he feels a light mutter against his ear.

“Hmm?”

“I said, don’t die again, Kashi.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the exceptionally bright weather or the unexpected nickname, but Kakashi grins wider than he had in over a decade.

* * *

 

For some unknown and strange reason, Kakashi can’t detach his gaze from the tall blond figures standing strong against Madara.

It’s stunningly similar, the way father and son square their shoulders and plant their feet stubbornly onto the ground, the way Kurama’s chakra sets their hair aflame and makes their blue eyes bleed into shining ambers.

Yet their proximity only brings out the differences, how Minato is tall and slender, all speed and precision whereas Naruto will always be shorter but more compact and a heavy hitter like Minato could never be. How Naruto’s chakra feels alive while Minato’s is tainted and muted the way all Edo Tensei’s chakra are. How Naruto shines just that bit brighter with a charisma not unlike his father, but more condense, more…

Kakashi cannot quite find the right word, but it’s probably why the Five Nations have gathered under the same banner just at the mention of Naruto’s name.

The Jonin is startled out of his thoughts when a stream of black fire passes mere meters from him.

Well, that was a bit too close for his comfort. He’s lucky to have avoided it with only singed clothes, and even then, it would have taken him out of the game if not for the blonde –

Oh.

Minato sends him a knowing smirk and winks before speeding off to meet another of Madara’s jutsu.

Kakashi groans and resists the urge to blush before throwing himself into the fray.

(He’s never cursed his ability to read lips before this, because he’s pretty sure his sensei had mouthed something along the lines of _‘Seeing something interesting, Kakashi-kun?’_ )

* * *

 

 “It’s been a month.”

“Currently Konoha is under rebuilding and there aren’t any missions.”

“… You’re avoiding me.”

Kakashi jumps at the accusation but doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t deny it either.

The Fourth Shinobi War has been over for already a month and a half, and with Tenzo’s Mokuton the rebuilding is going smoothly. It’s been a few hectic weeks, but still a breath of fresh air compared to the stifling to and fro of planning and battles. Kakashi, as one of the major contributors to the hard-won victory, has earned a short period of respite.

And he had spent all that time running away from the persistent, blond war hero.

“Look, you know that I’m bad with subtle conversations so just tell me what’s wrong already.”

Nothing’s wrong.

Well, at least not on Naruto’s part.

Kakashi knows that he cannot avoid the subject forever, but he had hoped for a little more time before he had to face the problem head-on. Apparently, fate is being a total bitch to him – like always – and so Kakashi is currently stuck between a wall and the raging fury of a Naruto who doesn’t seem to appreciate being ignored.

Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.

Sighing, Kakashi pockets Icha Icha since he hasn’t been reading it anyway, too busy trying to evade Naruto to be able to focus on anything else than all the possible escape routes he knows in Konoha.

Sadly, Naruto still remembers quite well his prankster days and all the hidden passages in and out of the village, and coupled with his sensing abilities it’s just a plainly unfair game of cat and mouse.

Kakashi’s attention is drawn back to the teen when the blonde’s expression becomes pinched, sharp canines softly digging into rose lips.

“Is it… If it’s Sasuke, then I’m sorry. I know that he’s your favourite student and much more talented than I am but I didn’t have any other choice, and I know that it was a heavy price to pay but he’s back and-”

The Hatake’s eye widens before he reaches out and grabs Naruto’s remaining arm hard enough to bruise.

“No!” he cries out, and pauses a bit to let Naruto focus on his words properly.

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it? Is it… is it because the Edo Tensei… because dad… Obito…” Naruto’s lips tremble and suddenly Kakashi is assaulted by a pair of pleading, watery blue orbs the man haven’t seen in years.

“Kakashi-sensei, if you hate me, I…”

Something dark lurks in those eyes, something dead but not entirely and a cold kind of fire that burns Kakashi’s thoughts, a wish and a desire reflected in a gleam he’s never thought of as anything other than excitement before. But now Kakashi is finally close, a breath away just like it used to be when the teen had been but an infant cradled in a cold ANBU’s embrace, and it’s devastating to see the child with the same color that had once lit Kakashi’s own gaze.

He had seen it before, when Naruto had first joined team 7 and still plagued by spiteful words and carefully sharpened razors.

He had hated Konoha for doing that to Minato’s son, and now he hates himself for bringing it back.

“Naruto,” he tugs on a burnt orange sleeve and pulls the teen closer, “Oh Naruto, I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.” Kakashi runs gloved fingers through spiky tresses, longer than they usually are, and he marvels at their softness.

“Naruto, I could never hate you even if I wished to. I’ve known that ever since the first time I had seen you in the Sandaime’s arms. I’ve been avoiding you, but it’s definitely not because of Sasuke. If anyone were to blame, it would have been me. Minato-sensei is gone, yes, but again he’s been dead for over a decade and I’ve had enough time to deal with it. It was more of a blessing, really, to be able to even see him again. As for Obito, well, I’ve been mourning his death since I was twelve. It would be silly to do it again, don’t you think?”

Naruto steps just a bit closer. “Then why…?”

“It’s… complicated.”

The blond looks unimpressed.

“It has nothing to do with you. It’s just… me.”

“You?”

Kakashi runs an agitated hang over his face, trying to gather his thoughts. “Well, I’ve told you before that I’ve been your ANBU guard up until you were about a year old, right?”

Naruto nods, uncertain as to where Kakashi was leading this conversation.

“Yeah, I’ve looked through the files. I know that you only left because of the Council, so I don’t blame you for it.”

“Well, what you don’t know is that at first it was because of a mission in Snow country – Spring country now. I was supposed to take you back after that, but the Council had overruled the Sandaime and forced me to drop my position as your guard. I couldn’t really rain hell upon them, so the Hokage and I had an… understanding, of sorts.”

“An understanding?” Naruto is definitely curious now.

“I had a few conditions. I had arranged for you to get your apartment and made sure that the ANBU keeping an eye on you was trustworthy.”

Naruto blinks a few times. “So it isn’t a coincidence that we used to be practically neighbors…?”

Kakashi smiles. “Totally intended. I’ve also paid for all your Academy fees.”

Naruto’s expression turns from confusion to dawning comprehension. “You did…? So that’s why my orphan allowance used to be much higher than the others’!”

A few seconds later, the blond frowns thoughtfully. “Wait, but to do that-”

Kakashi smiles under his mask. No matter how clumsy the blond teenager can be at times, he’s far from the knucklehead he’d been as a Genin.

“I was your legal guardian, Naruto, if only for a little while. Up until I became your sensei of course, since it’s illegal for a sensei to have any close ties with his students to avoid favouritism. No one knew about the guardianship so it was easy to remove my name from your files.”

“You did that for me…?” Naruto’s voice wavers and Kakashi closes his eye as he pulls the teen close, circling an arm around the blonde’s waist, mindful of the bandaged arm – half of an arm, really - and letting him bury his head into his chest.

“Yes, yes I did. You know why?”

He feels Naruto clutch at his Jonin vest and the silver haired man tilts his head to let bright blond tresses caress his chin, taking in the faint smell of fireflies and warm fur mixed with summer sunshine.

“Because even before you were born, when Kushina hadn’t even started showing… You were family, Naruto. Like Rin, Obito and Minato-sensei. From the start.” Kakashi pauses, a bit out of breath and a bit caught in the moment.

“But now… now, I can say that it’s because I love you,” he mutters, and it takes all his will power to not sigh when it feels like a weight is being lifted off his shoulders.

Kakashi looks down to see bemused sky blue eyes staring at him incredulously.

“You…”

Kakashi is more relaxed than he’s been in years. Perhaps it’s the adrenaline, perhaps it’s the mood urging him, perhaps it’s Naruto’s sweet scent overwhelming him, but he raises an arm and swiftly pulls down the double layers of masks, letting them pool on his neck.

For a few tense moments the blond in his arms scrutinize his revealed face, taking in the narrowed eyes, the thin scar over his left eye running to just a centimeter above the corner of his mouth, the high cheekbones from his mother and the strong jawline from his father, the slightly crooked nose, testimony to his long years as a shinobi, and his lips stretched into a gentle smile.

Finally, a warm hand comes up to tangle into his hair at the base of his neck.

“You silly Jonin.”

A quick peck on his lips and suddenly Naruto is dancing away, a seductive smirk in place.

“You coming or what? Iruka-sensei is getting promoted and the ceremony is not waiting for anyone!”

Kakashi chuckles and follows.

(There will always be a gap between them, age and experience and the shared pain they fight to keep away, but it’s a good kind of distance that Kakashi will not trade for anything else.

Besides, he quite enjoys pursuing the blond, in all senses of the word.)


End file.
